


An Inexact Birthday

by JSheets716



Category: Welcome to Hell - All Media Types
Genre: Fanfiction, M/M, The Inexact Sciences, sockathan - Freeform, welcome to hell - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 11:35:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24969052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JSheets716/pseuds/JSheets716
Summary: Jonathan Combs did everything in his power to ignore his birthday. Outside of a call from his mother and a few test messages from his sister, Katharine, he didn’t acknowledge the importance of the day. It was just another day wrapped up inside of another week inside of another year.“So… Got any plans for Saturday?” Sock had asked.“I got no plans,” Jonathan eyed Sock warily. Did Sock know his birthday? Is that why he wanted to hang out?“Come over. I’ll make it worth your while,” Sock promised, and Jon turned his gaze back up to his partner, who had leaned in closer to him. Sock had placed an elbow on the table and was leaning against his hand, head cocked slightly to the side. He was taking Jon in, and there was a look in his eyes that Jonathan could only describe as flirtatious, and Jon found his eyes traveling down to Sock’s lips…Jon came to attention, refusing to continue that train of thought.“And how are you gonna do that?” Jon challenged.“Just you wait, Hot Stuff. I have the best surprise ever.”
Relationships: Jonathan Combs/Napoleon Maxwell Sowachowski | Sock
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34





	An Inexact Birthday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InfaWrit10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfaWrit10/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Inexact Sciences](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12822216) by [InfaWrit10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfaWrit10/pseuds/InfaWrit10). 



> This is a fanfic of InfaWrit10's The Inexact Sciences. If you haven't read it, it's an amazing time travel story using the characters and universe of Erica Wester's Welcome to Hell. The premise is Sock and Jonathan are scientists, and Sock attempts to prove The Butterfly Effect by building a time machine. 
> 
> This fanfic is a birthday gift for InfaWrit10. I actually wrote most of it last year, but due to various reasons I never got around to posting it. I'm late for Writ's actual birthday as well, but I figure I'd throw it up. I'm sorry it's late, Writ! But happy late birthday! (I'll get started on a time machine so I can go back in time and submit it before your birthday)
> 
> This fanfic takes place towards the middle of the story, taking place virtually anytime between chapters 13 and 18. I'm not sure where it would fit into the story chronologically, because I'm not good with all this wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff. But if you want cute, birthday themed fluff, look no further!

Jonathan Combs did everything in his power to ignore his birthday. Outside of a call from his mother and a few test messages from his sister, Katharine, he didn’t acknowledge the importance of the day. It was just another day wrapped up inside of another week inside of another year.

His mother had tried, of course. When he was younger the Combs clan would get together to celebrate. These celebrations, however, almost never went as anticipated. Something would always go wrong, and Jonathan was convinced there had been a higher power (or perhaps a lower power) who had thrived on ruining his birthdays. There was the time Uncle Dave had gotten them thrown out of the local bowling alley for accidentally breaking the ball retrieval machine. Christian had gotten drunk at the Chuck E. Cheese and threw up all over the mascot. And most recently, there was the Concert Incident, an event so heinous no one dared to speak of it. It was enough to make Jonathan rescind any birthday favors or parties all together.

In fact, he was so prepared to forget his birthday, that he hadn’t realized the line of inquiry that his partner was traveling down on.

“So… Got any plans for Saturday?” Sock had asked.

It was a fairly innocuous question. Which is why Jonathan hadn’t stopped the conversation all together. The two were sitting in Sock’s lab, having just returned from a rather harrowing escape from 17th Century England. Why the machine had taken them there, Jonathan had no idea. Sock was still working out the kinks of pinpointing their destination, but Jonathan found it hard to complain regardless. After all, they had access to a FREAKING TIME MACHINE.

Jonathan shrugged at the question. “I dunno. Work, probably. But I gotta check my schedule.” Jonathan said, reaching for his phone to do just that. Opening the calendar app, he scrolled to Saturday and was greeted with a blank screen of white. No events scheduled. But he did make note of the date, and scowled. It was his birthday.

“I got no plans,” Jonathan eyed Sock warily. Did Sock know his birthday? Is that why he wanted to hang out?

“Why do you ask?” Jonathan asked, trying to recall any instances where he had discussed his birthdate with the ever-eager scientist. Sock fiddled with his googles, not noticing how hard the blonde was scrutinizing him.

“No reason. Just figured if you’re free, we can hang. So, come over,” Sock insisted… no, demanded, the excitement in his already bouncy voice seemingly increasing as he turned to face his partner.

Jonathan felt Sock’s green eyes on him, and the warm smile that washed over him. If Sock had any sort of ulterior motives, he certainly wasn’t showing them. Jon looked back, his blue eyes meeting Sock’s, before he pulled his gaze away.

He tried to ignore the anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach that tended to show up whenever he found himself looking at Sock for too long. He pushed the feelings away, and went for a tone of non-commitment:

“We’ll see. I’ll let you know.”

Sock grinned, though Jon hadn’t noticed, his eyes staring on the laboratory floor, counting the tiles to occupy his mind off of Sock.

_“One… Two... Three…”_

“I’ll make it worth your while,” Sock promised, and Jon turned his gaze back up to his partner, who had leaned in closer to him. The two were sitting on the hard metal stools that came with the long laboratory table. Sock had placed an elbow on the table and was leaning against his hand, head cocked slightly to the side. He was taking Jon in, and there was a look in his eyes that Jonathan could only describe as flirtatious, and Jon found his eyes traveling down to Sock’s lips…

Jon came to attention, refusing to continue that train of thought. Instead, he scoffed, and acted as cavalier as possible.

“And how are you gonna do that?” Jon challenged.

“Just you wait, Hot Stuff. I have the best surprise ever.”

Jon scowled. He hated surprises. He hated surprises on his birthday especially. He still couldn’t tell if Sock was just being spontaneous, or if the scientist knew about his birthdate. He tried to recall when the subject came up in past conversation, but only drew blanks. Had someone mentioned it to Sock over Christmas?

“Sock, I don’t want surpris…” Jon started, about to lodge a complaint.

But the inventor interrupted, getting up from his stool and strolling over to the stereo. “I don’t wanna hear it, Jon. No whining. All I wanna hear is Freddie Mercury. So, you can either sing along with me, or shut up,” Sock said, with a grin, ignoring the eye-roll the apathetic college student was giving him.

Jon didn’t complain for the rest of the night, but he did sing-mumble his way through _A Night at the Opera._

~~~

The morning started with loud knocking on his bedroom door. It was several bangs in succession, and Jon snapped awake in a panic, adrenaline bringing him to his feet almost immediately. He ran to the door, and hurled it open, half expecting to see the face of his roommate.

But it wasn’t Damon that greeted him. It was Sock, wearing his white lab coat and yellow goggles. One hand was balled into a fist, ready for knocking, and the other held what looked like a science beaker about the size of a thermos. Inside the beaker, which wasn’t actually a beaker but a cup stylized as a beaker, was a light brown liquid that Jonathan could only guess was tea.

“Morning, Jon!” Sock said, far too excited for Jonathan’s tired self. The sleepy blonde blinked twice before rubbing his eyes with balled fists.

“What’re you doing here?” The blonde asked, stretching as he posed the question.

“Well, I said I wanted to hang out on Saturday,” Sock paused mid-sentence, placing the cup to his lips as he took another swig. When he finished, he continued: “...so here I am.”

Jon eyed the scientist. “And why’d you get me so early? How’d you even get in my house?”

Sock smiled. “I couldn’t wait for you to get up. You’d sleep the whole day away! And as for how I got in, I totally picked the lock,” he bragged.

Jon, however, didn’t believe him for an instant.

“Bullshit,” the blond quipped. Jon was confident that if Sock HAD been practicing lock-picking, he’d save it for when he could flaunt it. Ideally during a dramatic escape, the kind that was becoming far too frequent for the two time-travelers as of late.

“Alright, fine,” Sock caved. “Marie? let me in? At least I think her name was Marie?? She kinda mumbled as she said it and… whatever. Your roommate’s girlfriend,” Sock elaborated.

_“Her name is Marie? I thought it was Bri?”_ Jonathan made a mental note to actually learn her name next time they talked.

“Oh. K.” 

A beat passed between the two, with Sock just grinning, looking rather chipper. But then the look on his face changed. He was looking straight at Jonathan, his gaze traveling up and down the sleepy college student. Sock’s face was steadily reddening as he stared at Jonathan, and Jon couldn’t help but register a look of… desire In Sock’s gaze. The look made him nervous and excited all at once, and Jon could feel his heart start to thud in his chest.

It was then that Jon followed Sock’s gaze and looked down.

He was naked, or nearly so, wearing only a pair of purple colored boxers.

“DUDE!” Jon shouted in surprise, going to cover himself, his face turning scarlet. 

Normally, Jonathan wasn’t self-conscious about his body, and hardly cared what others might have thought of it. But standing there, nearly in his birthday suit, exposed to the gaze of his best friend, he felt particularly vulnerable. Had Sock been checking him out? His heart rate quickened at the possibility, and he couldn’t decide whether that possibility enthralled him or terrified him.

He ducked inside his room and slammed the door behind him, leaving Sock standing there, still blushing. From his side of the door, Jonathan’s face was aflame, and he took a few deep breaths to try and steady himself.

“I’ll meet you at the lab!” Jon shouted through the door after composing himself, and a few seconds later, he heard Sock walking away, presumably biting back a snarky remark.

When Sock was gone, Jon finally relaxed. He leaned against the door and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. He tried not to think. He didn’t want to unpack the idea of his best friend checking him out. It was too early in the morning for that. It was too early in the morning to do ANYTHING.

So, he reached for his phone, to check the time, and scowled as he saw the date.

_“It’s been five minutes, and this day already sucks. Happy birthday to me…_ ”

~~~

Jon headed down the stairs and into the basement lab, and was greeted with the sounds of _Birthday_ by The Beatles blaring on the sound system.

_“Fuck. Guess Sock knows what today is…”_ Jon’s stomach turned at the thought, and his gut instinct told him to turn back around and bolt upstairs and never look back.

But he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t- and didn’t want to- hurt Sock like that. He had to press forward. But as he reached the bottom stair and as looked out at the lab before him, his frustration rose.

Balloons floated around the room, seemingly dancing as they were blown by the air conditioner’s fans. There were streamers hung on the walls. The lab tables, which normally housed all manner of books and papers and homework, had been cleaned. Bowls of chips and bottles of soda stood in their place on one table. On the second table stood, what Jonathan supposed, was a cake.

Jonathan supposed this because the pastry had a very un-cake-like appearance. It was lumpy and obtuse, seeming as if it was going to burst at any moment, or perhaps it could also potentially collapse on itself. Jonathan wondered which would happen. He wasn’t surprised at the cake’s deformed appearance, however. Sock had a penchant for experimentation, and Jon couldn’t imagine him sticking to a recipe for long before throwing in random ingredients just to see if he could. As he scanned the room, he briefly wondered if he’d get food poisoning tonight.

_“Would be better than my 14th birthday…”_

Against the back wall, stood Sock, putting the finishing touches on hanging a “Happy Birthday!” banner. He spun around as the music started, and sprinted towards Jonathan, letting the banner drop. Before Jonathan could stop him, the scientist had nearly tackled him, throwing his arms around the blonde and pulling him into a hug.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Sock screeched, excitedly, practically screaming in Jonathan’s ear. The blonde winced, and struggled against the hug, but not nearly enough to escape. If Jonathan really wanted to get away, he could. The fight was pretense, and Sock seemed to sense this, for he held tight.

When Sock did finally release him, his green eyes were practically alight.

“What d’ya think? Isn’t it great!? You love it, right?” Sock asked, glancing at his handiwork. Before waiting for Jonathan to answer, he ran back to the fallen banner and picked it back up, going to hang it.

With his back turned, Sock wasn’t able to see the look on Jonathan’s face. So, it was easy for Jonathan to hide his obvious discomfort before Sock saw it. He straightened his face into one of neutrality. He didn’t answer the question, and instead asked one of his own.

“How long have you been planning this? All this stuff wasn’t up last night.”

Sock stepped back from the hung banner to admire his work. “I’ve been planning this since Christmas! I got your birthday from your mom…”

_“I’m gonna kill her,”_ Jonathan made a mental note to call her later.

“..And after you left I’ve been up all night decorating. I even baked a cake! And I got a backup store cake in case the one I made isn’t edible!” Sock chirped, his voice taking on a proud tone. If jumping through various times in history had taught the scientist anything, it was to be prepared.

“So, be honest, blondie, how’d I do?” Sock asked, folding his arms and giving Jon a grin. It was the same smile of excitement that Sock had worn upon finishing the time machine, or after using it for the first time. It sent Jonathan’s heart into double-time..

So naturally Jonathan had to lie.

“Amazing,” Jonathan said.

But even more naturally, Sock immediately saw through him, because Jonathan couldn’t lie. Sock’s eyes widened in horror.

“Oh God. You hate it,” Sock’s voice was filled to the brim with disappointment, and Jonathan felt his heart freeze in his chest. The blonde felt like a monster. Jon’s blue eyes met Sock’s green ones, and the look of hurt in those greens hurt Jon even more.

“No. No I don’t.”

“You totally do.”

“No,” Jonathan insisted, but it wasn’t full-hearted enough, and both of them seemed to sense this.

Sock stared at Jonathan, his mouth dropping open. A few seconds later, he closed his mouth, and clenched his teeth and took a deep inhale, through his nose. Jon watched his chest tense and then relax as he released it, the air flying out of his nose like a bull.

“I like it. Really,” Jonathan said, taking a look around the room again.

“Liar…” Sock pouted.

“I think this is all really nice!” Jonathan insisted, which was true. Though he absolutely detested his birthday, he couldn’t help but think all this effort Sock had done for him had been really nice. Kind. Sweet, even. Jon made such a big deal about not wanting to do anything, he never got this sort of surprise anymore. His mom hadn’t gotten him a cake in YEARS.

So, while Jonathan truly hated his birthday, he really liked the effort Sock had put into this.

Which is why he felt his heart practically burst when he saw Sock go straight for the banner and hurl it down to the floor.

“What’re you doing!?” Jon exclaimed in surprise.

“Taking everything down,” Sock said, as if it was obvious. “No sense keeping it up if you’re not gonna appreciate it.” He could hear Sock’s voice, how dejected and deflated he sounded, and it immediately filled Jonathan with regret.

“I DO appreciate it,” he shuffled toward his partner and threw his hand out to stop Sock.

His hand latched onto Sock’s before he could grab the other end of the banner, leaving it in a half-hung state. Sock froze, and his gaze traveled from his hand to Jonathan. The blonde softened his gaze.

“This is nice, Sock. Really. This is… one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for me. And I love it. But I don’t like my birthday, and I’ve got a bad track record when it comes to celebrations,” Jon said. He let go of Sock’s hand.

Sock didn’t move. He cocked his head. “Come on, Jonathan. How bad could it be?”

It only took Jon a few seconds to do the calculations.

“We’re talking an 83% chance of some kind of personal disaster.” He admitted.

“Are you serious? Surely you’re-“

Jon cut Sock off: “Is my math ever wrong?”

The scientist considered that, watching Jonathan as he walked over to one of the stools, the one near the bowl of chips, and sat down. Sock followed and sat down next to him.

“What… happened? Can I ask?”

Jon sighed, and helped himself to a handful of chips. “The first birthday I can remember clearly, I was five. My mom got me a beagle, cause me and Kat were BEGGING to have a puppy. I was THRILLED. What 5 year old wouldn’t be? But…”

“Oh god,” Sock said, and Jon could already tell Sock was regretting his question. But Jon continued:

“...I went to go ride bikes with my friends, and no one was watching the puppy, and he somehow got into the chocolate birthday cake.”

“Jon…”

“I spent the rest of the day at the vet. The dog pulled through, but it made my mom seriously reconsider her stance on pets. I mean, we only had Rex for three hours and he ended up sick.”

Sock was silent, and a silence hung in the air.

“I’m sorry, Jon, I-“

“My other birthdays weren’t as bad, but they weren’t good. When I was six, my uncle broke the ball return machine and got my family permanently banned from a bowling alley…”

“Jon, we don’t have to talk-“

“When I was eight my cousin Christian got WASTED at Chuck E. Cheese and HE got banned from there, and it put a damper on the party. When I was nine my grandma was hospitalized for pneumonia. She pulled through, but it was the first time I spent my birthday in a hospital. The second time, I was eleven and I broke my arm when Kat-“

“Okay okay, I get it. You have really bad birthdays.”

“...and then there was the time me and Mel went to a concert, and…” Jon suddenly stopped, perhaps realizing he said too much. “It was bad, Sock.”

He looked away, unable to meet his best friend in the eye, and instead dug into the chip bowl. He could feel Sock’s gaze on him, and for a while the two didn’t speak. Only the sounds of Jonathan eating and Molly the mouse, running in the wheel in her tank, could be heard.

“What about GOOD birthdays? You said 83% were bad. What about the other 17%” Sock asked.

“Well, the past four years I haven’t done anything. My mom and Kat call. I’ll get a pizza or something and just listen to music.” Jon explained.

“Oh.” Sock muttered, feeling sorry for his partner.

“Yeah.” Jon said, reaching for another handful of chips.

You know we could fix all that, right?” Sock said, after a few minutes of thought.

“Whuh?” Jon asked, still with chips in his mouth. He hurriedly chewed and swallowed.

“We can fix the bad birthdays. We have a time machine. And we need to make changes. We can stop the dog from getting sick, stop your uncle’s terrible bowling, stop- okay, well, we probably can’t realistically stop Christian, because he’s hopeless, but…”

Jonathan interrupted, cutting off his partner in crime. “You want to use the time machine to stop me from having a shitty birthday?” The question was asked slowly, as Jonathan needed confirmation to understand what he was truly hearing. Fortunately, Sock gave it.

Sock nodded. “Yeah. I mean, my original plan for your birthday present was using the time machine to hopefully go to August 9th, 1986, but we can use the machine for this instead.”

“...why the ‘80s? Why that date?” Jonathan tried to remember any significant events occurring on that date, but he drew blanks.

“I was hoping we could’ve gone to see Queen. I thought it’d be a neat present. If I can get us there, I mean. The time machine still keeps fighting me. Seeing Freddie Mercury’s final performance would be great, but fixing your birthdays would be even better.” Sock insisted.

Jon stared at Sock, surprised. “You’d do that for me? Aren’t you afraid of changing history?” He recalled what happened to Sock after the train, and the incident in the library of Alexandria.

Sock seemed to be remembering those incidents as well, for he spoke: “Oh, I’m TERRIFIED. But you’re worth it, Jonathan. I-“ Sock began to blush, and Jon watched his skin change color almost instantaneously.

Jon felt the blush become contagious. Sock was beaming at him, and Jon rubbed the back of his neck while trying to stifle his own smile. How the hell did Sock do that? He’d just give him a look, and Jon could feel himself practically melt, the warm feeling in his chest and his cheeks coursing through his entire being. He tried to quash the feeling, and ignore it. He got back on topic.

“Let’s not, Sock. It’s very sweet, but I really don’t wanna get ripped apart by the Void on my birthday.” Jon said.

“To be fair, isn’t there ALWAYS a chance we’ll be de-atomized by the Void every time we use it?” Sock countered.

“Yeah, but usually we’re not dealing with a 17% rate of success.”

“Alright.” Sock acquiesced. “Then we go at midnight when the probability of getting obliterated turns back to normal,” He fiddled with his glasses as he spoke, but Jonathan could already see the fire of excitement burning on Sock’s retinas.

“Sock. I don’t want to do that. My past doesn’t need fixing.”

Sock sighed in defeat, not wanting to return to this circular conversation, “...I just wanted to give you a good birthday.” He tugged at the flaps on his aviator hat, awkwardly.

“I’m having a good birthday. I got chips, and a cake, good music, and my best friend. Far as I’m concerned, this is the best birthday I’ve ever had,” Jon admitted.

Jonathan could swear Sock’s face changed color instantaneously. Sock was blushing rather obviously, and Jonathan found he liked getting that reaction.

“Thanks, Jon,” Sock sheepishly said. He went back to the half-hung banner and returned it to its proper place. The decorations were set. Jonathan’s party could finally begin. Sock turned up the stereo, and the two began to celebrate.

The festivities included Sock dancing, various rounds of air guitar, off key singing and heated discussions as to the most well-executed science fiction time-travel story.

As the party drew to a close, Sock had graced his homemade cake with candles, and performed a solo version of “Happy Birthday!” Jon rolled his eyes throughout the whole thing, but the wide smile on his face indicated his true feelings. Sock made him realize that not all birthdays were disasters. That some could even be good.

“Make a wish!” Sock exclaimed.

Jon thought about what to wish for, biting his lower lip as he stared across the table at his best friend. Sock’s face was glowing in the warm candle-light, and for a brief moment Jonathan considered reaching over and…

“Jon, the candles!” Sock shouted, getting his attention. He looked down at the cake he prayed was edible, before turning back up to meet Sock’s eyes.

Jonathan closed his eyes…

_“I want more birthdays like this.”_

When he opened his eyes, Sock was still across from him, beaming.

_“I want more birthdays like this. With you.”_ Jonathan thought, before blowing out the candles.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday, Writ!


End file.
